


A Dark and Frightful Place

by motelsamndean (eacc22)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-05
Updated: 2019-08-05
Packaged: 2020-07-31 16:33:32
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 725
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20118151
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eacc22/pseuds/motelsamndean
Summary: While Sam is at Stanford, Dean dreams of killing him.





	A Dark and Frightful Place

Dean took a long drag of his cigarette and stood in the shadows behind the bar. He watched the customers come and go, varying levels of inebriation. He flicked the smoke back and forth between his teeth with his tongue. It was a bad habit he picked up after Sam left, but he didn’t really care. A lot less mattered without his sunshine boy at his side.   
Well, sunshine sometimes. Dean saw through the cracks in the wall that Sam struggled to build after puberty, knew where the weak spots were to get a glimpse inside. Not that he saw much, it was pitch black inside Sammy’s little soul – or maybe that’s all that he kept locked up inside - black, bleak, empty.   
He finished off his cigarette, snuffed it out underneath his worn combat boot. He may need another pair soon, didn’t have Dad to back up pool hustling though right now, people were a lot less keen to bet against a 20-year-old kid, as hard as Dean tried to look older.   
He was about to emerge from the shadows when he saw a man walk towards the bar, loose fluidity to his gait that only hunters and monsters had, a sign of a feral core that lurked under the surface. Sam walked that way. Dean leaned against the cold brick, lit another cigarette. Now, wait.   
Once Dad left Dean to fight on his own he realized how little he cared for hunting. But this swamp monster had a mossy green gaze that reminded Dean of a little twerp he couldn’t get off his mind.   
He checked his phone in the shadows, blue-white light illuminated how little he had slept since Sam left a year and fourteen days ago. Still no messages from Sam. Of course not.   
Shit, he almost missed watching the monster leave with a woman slung under his arm. In and out of the bar in minutes, Dean wished he had that game. His bed sure felt lonely without Sam pressed too tight against him and Dad’s snores mere feet away.  
Checking his phone during prime focus time was another bad habit he picked up after Sam left, almost as if he wanted to get caught, miss the hunt, let the monsters get the best of him. Guess his brother didn’t need him all the way in Palo Alto. Sam never texted, but he never stopped checking.   
He followed behind the monster’s car in the old Impala, swerved around street lights so he wouldn’t be seen and so he couldn’t look at the empty passenger seat. It wasn’t far, Dean had scoped out the place the day before, old dilapidated structure off the marshes and swamps in Northern Florida. He wished he were further from Sam than he was. Anywhere in the country with reminders of back roads they’d taken with Dad was enough to get his blood boiling. He turned it down to a simmer and rolled into the overgrown lot.  
Dean sat in the car and smoked another cigarette, waiting for the ear-splitting scream to tell him that the man was indeed a monster and not just sneaking off for a sexy rendezvous. The shriek caught him a little off guard, and he listened for the wet gurgle of the swamp monster chowing down before letting baby’s door creak as he got out.   
The scene was gruesome, sure, but nothing Dean hadn’t seen before. This monster, though – it looked like what he was trying to go after most times. It was lean and boyish, a mop of sandy hair. It turned as Dean strode up, white flash of teeth and glimmering eyes reminded him of another troublesome boy he would never see again. Eyes full of ravenous thoughts, mouth full of mirth; it made Dean’s knees tremble at the aching want that rippled through his bones.   
He killed the monster and watched the life drain from its eyes, the dark cool gaze fading into nothing. He lived for it. He wanted to say Sam’s name. It was like him, just not close enough. Dean left, looking for another hunt, another monster that looked like his lanky brother that walked out on him, with eyes of sin and a lure of a heart. Wanted to get a glimpse of what he was missing. Another bad habit he wasn’t planning on breaking.


End file.
